


Overstep

by Kestrealbird



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Allusions to past relationships, Alpha Jack, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Ambiguous Relationships, Atlas fucked up, Cuddling, Omega Rhys, One Lucky Beta, Other, Possessive Nisha, Talks of marriage and pregnancy, Vague Business, allusions to sex, alpha nisha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 19:25:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13642902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrealbird/pseuds/Kestrealbird
Summary: “I’m not having their kids,” Rhys whispers the moment that Atlas are out of earshot, but his voice wavers, unsure.“No,” Jack agrees, tucking Rhys into his side protectively, “you’re not.”





	Overstep

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is but I'm into it. Might do more for this universe later. Quick notes: Nisha is an Enforcer here, Rhys is Jack's PA and their relationship can be read however you please. I made it ambiguous because if you want to read them as romantically involved it should be noted that they aren't bonded to Rhys, like, at all. I writ Rhys here to be Asexual but again you can read him however you wish

It's the scent that hits him first. 

Technically he shouldn't be able to pick up their scents yet - not until he’s almost on top of their room, at least - but Rhys has always been just a little bit more sensitive to that sort of thing than other Omega’s. The less he thinks about the reason for that the better, really. 

At first he thinks its just Jack and Nisha fooling around again - as they’re want to do - but the closer he gets the easier it is to pick up the muted scent of a Beta in there, too. It’s amazing that he can smell the Beta at all, given how naturally overpowering Jack and Nisha are, so it speaks volumes about this person's scent. 

The two Alpha’s are a force on their own - scents so strong and thick they seem to take up a whole room like its  _ home _ the moment they step into it - but  _ together _ ? He almost feels sorry for the Beta that they’ve decided to share, until he remembers that said Beta is probably  _ very _ into this.

He stops in front of the room with a pointed frown, tapping his foot impatiently, sighing with annoyance when Nisha snickers at him through the door. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, foot tapping getting louder and louder until it becomes a competition to see who breaks first; Rhys’ patience or the Beta who knows that someone's listening through the door. What he needs to tell them isn't actually important, but Jack had  _ insisted _ that Rhys inform him about any new developments with his little “personal project.” 

The only thing Rhys needs to know about it is that it’s going to fuck over Dahl and Jack’s ego about it is already big enough without adding the extra layers, thank you very much.

It's the Beta who gives in first - not that Rhys really notices until the door opens up and he wrinkles his nose in distaste at the onslaught of  _ sex _ and  _ Alpha Ego _ that attacks his senses.

Nisha walks out first, completely bare save for Jack’s jumper and her hat, a self-satisfied snakes grin on her face. She winks at Rhys as she swaggers past, humming some song or other, and the Beta stumbles out next, looking utterly  _ wrecked _ and disoriented. Rhys takes a small amount of pity on them and directs them down the corridor that will go past the least amount of people. They deserve some walk of shame, he reasons, for thinking they could handle both Nisha  _ and _ Jack at the same time.

Shaking his head he clears his throat politely because he may be Jack’s PA but that doesn't mean he’s willing to see the man  _ naked _ , no matter what Vaughn and Yvette might suggest. 

“Don't worry, pumpkin,” Jack snickers, and Rhys can hear him lighting up a post-sex cigarette. He wonders what it implies about him that he almost expected it. “I promise I’m decent for your virgin eyes to see.”

They both know Rhys isn't anything close to being a virgin, but, much like before, the less he thinks about that part of his young life the better, and Jack respects his privacy on the matter.

He still waits for the room to air out a little before he finally enters, though, and his heels sink into the carpet silently. He mourns the fact that they don't click in here. Rhys likes the sound they make. Its distinguished. Jack, because he’s an  _ ass _ , has convinced himself that Rhys has a kink for it.

“They’ve managed to reconstruct 80% of Dahl’s new gun model,  _ and _ make the balance better.” Jack snorts at the direct approach, but it's what he likes about Rhys. The Omega doesn't steer around corners unless he has to, preferring instead to cut across them and straight to the business at hand. 

Jack is glad that Hyperion has better paychecks than Atlas, because the thought of Rhys working for the direct competition isn't  _ frightening _ , exactly, but it is  _ concerning _ . Best to have all the good pieces for himself. It's just insurance, of course, to keep himself ahead of everyone else.

It also helps that Atlas still believes in endotype discrimination.

Jack grins at the news, leaning back on his elbow as he puffs smoke from the cigarette held loosely between his fingers. “You always know just what to say to get me back into it, Rhysie~”

“Gross.” 

Jack might be decent - or as decent as he gets after sex - but the room certainly isn't, and Rhys makes a mental note to have Janitorial bleach and decontaminate the whole thing.

Jack closes his eyes with a sigh, and it always throws Rhys off when he thinks about just how much trust Jack has in him. He decides not to think into  _ that _ , either, because it’s easier to ignore if he doesn't. He’s afraid of what he’ll find if he does. 

Rhys watches Jack for a moment, contemplates throwing a shirt at him, decides not to, then turns around to leave, putting his hands in his hoodie pockets, and he’s vaguely aware that Jack is watching him, but Jack does that, sometimes.

Watches people.

Rhys doesn't know why he does it; he’s used to it by now, though, so it hardly bothers him anymore. He calls over his shoulder, “don't forget you have a meeting with Atlas in the morning!”, and Jack’s answering groan puts a smile on his face. 

* * *

 

The thing about Atlas, Jack thinks, is that they’re kind of like a cockroach; no matter what he does to them they always come crawling back into his business, even when he’s  _ absolutely sure _ they should all be dead by now. The only reason he’s stopped trying to wipe them out completely is because whoever is in charge these days is actually good for business, and Jack’s got an  _ agreement _ going on with them. It’s mutually beneficial, of course, and it’s probably working up to some sort of merger or alliance, but as long as they don't  _ overstep _ then he really doesn’t care how things go.

They’ve sent a new person for the business talk this time. He’s a handsome looking Beta with glowing skin, glasses perched on his nose and braided ginger hair. His smile, on the other hand, is insincere and  _ poisonous _ .

“Connor TaiYang,” he reaches out to shake Jack’s hand, eyes closed and voice so pure it sets his teeth on edge, “a pleasure to meet you Mr. Lawrence.” Jack nods, taking in the bodyguards behind the Beta with feigned interest. To anyone else they might seem like a threat; Jack sees them as just another obstacle to get past.

Jack crosses his arms and leans back against his desk, raising a brow at the expensive suit the guy is wearing. “You must be pretty high up for them to send  _ you _ instead of the usual crowd.” Rhys nudges his shoulder with a frown. Connor doesn’t seem put off by the comment in the least.

“I’m one of the president’s  _ personal assistants _ ,” his eyes open to look briefly at Rhys before they flicker back to Jack. “You understand what that means in terms of importance, surely.”

Something about his suggestive tone doesn’t sit too well with Jack and Rhys stiffens minutely beside him. He doesn't say a word though, simply observes as Connor goes back to addressing Jack. “Get to the point, Atlas,” Jack cuts him off before he can say anything else and this time he does look thrown off for a moment. Good.

Connor sighs, pushing up his glasses. “They weren’t kidding when they said you don’t screw around.” He gestures to his guards and they move to stand at the back of the room. “Putting it simply, my boss has a proposal for you.”

“Oh?”

“Given our...unique arrangements with eachother, Atlas believes that it would be in everyone's best interest if we became official partners.” He smiles thinly. “That is, if we have a political marriage.”

Rhys huffs in amusement. “That’s bold,” he comments, dryly.

Jack snickers into his fist. “Sorry to disappoint you…” he waves his arm as he thinks of the guys name and Rhys sighs out, “it’s Connor, Jack.” He nods gleefully. “Yeah, well, sorry Connor but my last two marriages didn’t exactly go all that well.” The first had abandoned him and the second. Well. She hurt Angel, so Jack took her out the picture. Permanently. 

“Oh we’re well aware of that, Mr. Lawrence. In fact-” Connor’s eyes slide over to Rhys and Jack suddenly  _ does not like _ where this conversation is going. “My boss thought it best if Rhys were to marry one of us.”

Jack narrows his eyes. “One of you,” he repeats, voice slow and quiet.

“A personal assistant,” he clarifies. “My boss, Miss Stanfeld, is already happily married herself, and she thinks it would be best if we unified our company’s through the people we trust the most.”

Rhys tilts his head. “I imagine,” he says, slowly, “the reason she sent you is because you’re her first choice, correct?”

Connor chuckles. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”

Political marriages like this are highly beneficial, Jack knows that, and they’d do wonders for business and trade. Connor’s leaving out some important details though, and Jack is hard-pressed to trust this idea with so many variables missing. “A bond wouldn’t be necessary would it?” He isn’t actually going to consider something this outrageous, but it doesn’t hurt to play along if it means learning Atlas’ angle.

“No,” Connor tells him, “we wouldn’t want to force something that intimate onto the deal. It would certainly help,” he clarifies, “but marriage is easier and less...messy.” 

Jack appreciates the honesty, at least, but there’s still something here that he can’t quite grasp, and it’s making the hairs on the back of his neck bristle. “Anything else I should know about before I consider this?”

Connor shrugs. “Nothing that you wouldn’t expect from marriage.”

Rhys freezes next to him and Jack very suddenly  _ understands _ what Atlas wants here. “I’ll think it over,” he lies, grabbing the usual paperwork from his desk. The rest of the meeting goes by like any other, and it’s mostly just them catching up with each other’s progress and discussing how to manipulate the stock market. 

By the end of it, Jack tells Connor to take the first shuttle back to Atlas, and the Beta readily agrees. His eyes had kept sliding over Rhys during the whole business, and to his credit Rhys had ignored him. Jack doesn’t appreciate it now that he knows what they’ve got planned, however.

“I’m not having their kids,” Rhys whispers the moment that Atlas are out of earshot, but his voice wavers, unsure.

“No,” Jack agrees, tucking Rhys into his side protectively, “you’re not.”

* * *

 

When Nisha hears about it later she’s positively livid, and throws one of Jack’s plates against the wall in anger. Jack’s mask is placed on the bedside table, and he lights up a cigarette by the window. Rhys is quiet as Nisha rants about the audacity of it all, but Jack’s more concerned about the fact that Rhys seems to be  _ considering it _ . 

They don’t know Rhys’ full history, but they do know that he was bonded at one point, and whoever they were screwed him up enough that he made and attached his own cybernetics, despite all the risks involved, and keeps his neck - his bonding site - covered with high collars and soft scarves. Rhys has never been interested in having children; had once gotten sick at the very idea of it, and Jack had never pressed the issue.

Nisha shares the same thoughts as Rhys on the subject, though it’s for vastly different reasons. Jack has one daughter and she’s enough for him. 

“...it is an attractive offer though,” Rhys murmurs. 

Jack bristles and Nisha whirls around with a  _ snarl _ . “Don’t tell me you’re actually considering it!?” She hisses.

Rhys shrugs, arms covering his stomach and looks straight at Jack. 

He hates the way Rhys is looking at him; hates even more that he  _ knows _ what Rhys is going to say next. 

“If Jack thinks it’s best then…”

Jack doesn't know what’s worse; the fact that Rhys would be willing to do this if Jack asked him to, or the fact that he really believes Jack might actually consider it.

“Atlas can shove it up their ass.” Rhys blinks at his blunt denial, mouth open in a shocked ‘o’.

Nisha crosses her arms, planting herself defensively between Rhys and the door. “Damn right they can.”

Rhys shuffles, making himself smaller as he nervously looks at Nisha. “You’re really defensive about this. It isn’t the first time they’ve suggested it.”

That's the first time either of them have heard of this, and by the look on Rhys’ face he assumed that they had and it’s becoming glaringly obvious that Atlas are playing dirty. Nisha takes a deep breath to calm herself, and thinks back to those trips to Pandora. It’s the only time that anyone from Atlas could possibly get Rhys on his own without alerting anyone, their scents masked by everything else he’d be around, and the thought of them slowly chipping away at him like that makes her possessive instincts surge to the fore-front of her mind.

The marriage proposal was new, going from Rhys’ own reaction to it, but the childbirth isn’t. 

She needs to scent him - needs to show Atlas that he’s  _ off limits _ before she moonshots them herself. It doesn’t matter if they’re good for business;  _ nobody _ is touching Rhys without her permission first. Or Jack’s.

Nisha grabs his arm, dragging him to the bed and ignoring his stuttered complaints, intent on scenting him while he’s still here. It doesn’t take much effort to shove him on the bed, and she curls around him immediately, one hand in his hair as she tucks him under her chain with a growl. 

Jack huff's near the window, flicks his cigarette into the ashtray, then slips into the bed with them, arms around Rhys’ waist and nose buried between his shoulder blades, inhaling his scent with a sigh. The tension and nervousness in Rhys ebbs away under their cuddling, and he murmurs a warning that if Jack gets a boner he’ll shove him off the bed. Jack’s answering laugh is low and rough. Thankfully he keeps his teasing to himself.

Atlas have grossly overstepped. He’s going to enjoy forcing them back into the place they belong.


End file.
